Older and Wiser
by Miranda179
Summary: Older and Wiser Or: What Should Happen in the Christmas Special. Jimmy goes back to Downton Abbey after spending 5 years standing on his own two feet and growing up. But is it too late for him and Thomas? A bittersweet story because it features the death of an older character.
1. Chapter 1

Older and Wiser

Or: What Should Happen in the Christmas Special.

Part 1

Jimmy stared out of the window of his new employer's vast mansion, as the rain drizzled down from the grey sky. The jeers of his colleagues in the servants' hall still rang in his ears—"Losing your looks now, pretty boy!" "Got a speck of dirt on yer clothes, Mr Proud?" He sighed.

Life after Downton hadn't been the glorious freedom he'd hoped for, or expected. He'd taken odd jobs filling in for absent footmen for so long. Now at last this permanent job, but he didn't get on as well as he did at Downton, maybe because he'd had to call in a favour to land the job and the other servants were jealous. He smiled bitterly. He hadn't exactly shined at Downton either—no promotion in the entire four years he worked there. Apart from securing the position of first footman over that oaf Alfred. Maybe he should just jump out of the window. He sighed again.

"My, that was a big one," murmured a voice, and a hand caressed his neck. He jumped as his employer laughed, breathed on his neck and laughed girlishly. "I've said that to you before, haven't I?"

Jimmy forced a smile and turned a little to look at Lady Anstruther's over made-up face, smudged round the eyes, with uneven lipstick pouting at him. He tried not to shudder.

"I hope it's not me you're trying to get away from? Or are you pining after someone?" She tittered, stroking his arm.

He cleared his throat. "Is there something you wish me to do?" Why did he have to put it like that, leaving him open to any of her suggestions?

"Naughty." She stroked his lapel. "Not tonight."

He dropped his eyes.

"But really, whatever is the matter? I can tell you aren't yourself." She bit her lip. "Tell me."

"I just—I just wish—I don't know." He sighed again.

"Oh come on, do. I don't like my little Jimmy-Wimmy to be so sad."

At nearly 30, he was a bit old to be Jimmy-Wimmy. It had been five years since he left the Abbey and it hadn't left his mind since, looming more and more as the years passed. Well, not the Abbey. A person.

"I'll get over it, my lady." He smiled tightly at her, more of a grimace.

"Jimmy Kent, really. I am your greatest friend, I insist you tell me." She stepped right up to him and gazed into his face.

He couldn't back away any further or he really would fall out of the window. Maybe that would be for the best.

"I knew it!" She peered into his eyes, far too close for comfort. "You're pining for someone. A little hussy, I bet. A kitchen maid at your last job. Are you not happy here, Jimmy-Wimmy?" Her musky perfume suffocated him.

"My lady, please! Let me alone." Oh dear. He'd snapped at her. He might as well pack his bags now.

She stepped back. "Oh. Well if it's that bad. I—er—I've always been a romantic. Now I'm married to dear Peter—I mean—Lord Elsford, I see the wonder of love. How did I never notice how much he was interested in me?"

And your fortune, thought Jimmy.

"So if I can help you with your little romance, I swear to do so." She clutched at her heart, smiling bravely and he couldn't help smiling a little.

"There! There you see! _Mon ami_ James is happy now. Tell me about your kitchen maid. Or is it a fine lady, like _moi_?" She giggled.

Jimmy coughed. "My lady, you would be shocked. I can't tell you."

"Oh Jimmy, ple-e-e-ease." She fluttered her eyelashes in his face.

"Someone at Downton Abbey. Someone who always helped me and protected me—and—loved me."

"Oh, tell me more."

"No-one's really loved me before or since. Even you."

His eyes met hers and she gulped and clutched his arm.

"Sit down with me." She led him to the window seat without any more eyelash fluttering or pretence. "I really am your friend, you know."

"I don't know where to start."

"Jimmy." She looked into his eyes. "Tell me to mind my own business, but are you pining for—for—sorry if this sounds ridiculous—but the footman—the butler. The one who was your only friend."

He gasped. "How—what—why do you say that?"

"Because, my dearest James, I am not stupid. He is the one who sends you letters. He is the only one you mention from your past. Oh yes, dear James. I know your secret code. You say 'a friend of mine once said—.' 'I had a good friend once, I didn't appreciate him.' 'This friend of mine, he once told me the best way to—' My dear. It is 1928 and the modern world is upon us."

She smiled again and Jimmy slumped next to her.

"It's true. No one's ever—ever seen the best in me except him. Even you, my lady."

She raised her eyebrows.

"I'm sorry—but—but he never used me like you did." He looked her straight in the eyes and she had to look away. "He helped me and looked after me. We used to take the mickey out of the other staff." He spoke in Carson's deep voice. "Well, really Mrs Hughes, I can't possibly allow that." Then Mrs Hughes's Scottish tones. "Oh, Mr Carson, I don't advise you to ever do that."

Lady Anstruther smiled. "Dear James, you are funny. That pompous butler fellow. James—I must say—I know you lost your job at Downton because of me. I'm truly sorry."

"Thank you. Well, we were both younger. And—and—I must tell you something. Thomas—the under butler—helped me get to your room that night. Despite the fact that—that he knew I'd get into trouble. He wanted—he wished—"

"—he wished it was his bed you were going to." She paused. "Well we must rectify this. We'll visit Downton. They must have forgotten our—er—liaison by now. And I have a vacancy for a valet."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow.

"A vacancy in the household, not in my bed!" She slapped him on the arm. "Lord Elsford will soon need a new valet because Shenton is so old, so maybe your friend could—yes! We will go to Downton and see if your man is still there."

"My man?" Jimmy grinned.

"James Kent! You are obviously pining for him so I insist I make up for my mistake and get you what you want." She stood up and breezed off.

Jimmy slumped again. Was he going mad? She had seen right through him—and for how long? It had taken him years to sort out his feelings for Thomas. He'd been horrified that night Thomas had crept into his room and kissed him in his sleep. How embarrassing that the idiot Alfred had caught him. To make up for any suggestions that he might have enjoyed the attention, he'd taken the besotted Ivy out to the pictures, but she failed to satisfy him in any way. And no other girls had ever caught his eye, let alone admired or valued him. Whereas Thomas had saved him from a beating, defended him against every criticism, helped him deal with Lady Anstruther and even kept in touch with him via letter.

He hadn't meant to keep writing to Thomas, he thought that when he'd left Downton he'd forget quickly about the place and the man. He'd imagined a glittering career ahead, moving from footman to valet to butler very quickly. But that had not been the case at all. He was still first footman at Anstruther Hall, under the indestructible Mr Stoneham. That man was as old as the hills but still kept going.

But he'd felt alone after leaving Downton, adrift in the sea of footmen looking for jobs, so sent one letter to Thomas at the familiar address, telling himself he wouldn't ever send another. Thomas had replied at once, affectionately, so he'd sent letters again and again until it settled into once a month.

At first, he'd made out his career was fantastic, going from strength to strength, but Thomas's replies had been shrewd, until Jimmy had given up pretending and told the truth. His letters had become the only place he could confess his annoyance and frustration about his lack of progression in his career, friendships, even love life. Thomas gave advice and joined him in making fun of other people in their lives, and gossiping about the other residents of Downton. Monthly letters were a relief.

What on earth was Lady Anstruther planning though? He never knew with her.


	2. Chapter 2

Older and Wiser

Part 2

In the car on the way to Downton, Lady Anstruther patted Jimmy's shoulder as he sat in front.

"Don't worry, dear friend. We will prevail."

Why did she have to talk like a king leading his men into battle? Jimmy felt sick. What the hell was he doing? He was behaving just like her, lusting after a man so going to Downton Abbey to get him. If he could have taken the wheel from the driver, he would have turned the car round and driven off into the sunset.

The car pulled up at the Abbey, and Lady Anstruther shimmied out towards the Granthams.

"Robert dear. And Cora." She air kissed their cheeks. "I'm so sorry Peter couldn't come with me but it's so long since I saw you."

Lord Grantham's hair was pure white now, and to Jimmy's surprise, he stared blankly at him with no recognition.

"Peter?" he asked Lady Anstruther.

"Oh, Robert," said Lady Grantham. "You remember. Harriet married Peter Elsford two years ago."

"Oh, yes—er—I'm all muddled these days. Should we go into the—er—"

"The Abbey, darling." Lady Grantham's voice had the edge of impatience.

"Oh yes. Perhaps that young man could bring the cases—er—" Grantham tottered off clutching his wife's arm.

"He's aged badly," whispered Lady Anstruther. "He's forgotten who you are."

"Good." At least Lord Grantham wouldn't ban him from the house. But suppose Thomas had moved on? Jimmy braced himself. Whatever would be would be. He had nothing to lose, not really. The worst that could happen was going back to Anstruther Hall to his normal job.

As they approached the Abbey, Grantham turned.

"Carson will deal with your luggage and your—er—"

"Not Carson, dearest. Barrow, remember?" Lady Grantham patted his arm and said over her shoulder. "Carson passed away a year ago, so now Mr Barrow is in charge."

Jimmy raised his eyebrows—Thomas hadn't mentioned any of this in his letters. Then he suppressed a smile at the irony. Here was Thomas running a big house while he was still stuck as first footman. But he could only feel happy for him.

At the front door, Thomas stood patiently, but instead of his previous cold gaze, he wore a pleasant, open expression. His formerly black hair now had a slight touch of grey over his ears. Jimmy did a quick calculation. He was 30 now so Thomas must be nearly 40.

"Ah, Mr Barrow. Please take His Lordship to his room for his morning nap." Lady Grantham pressed the faithful butler's arm for a long moment and Thomas smiled at her.

"Of course, my lady." He turned to Lord Grantham, then he saw Jimmy with Lady Anstruther. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped a bit, but not enough to compromise his professional expression. He held out his arm to Grantham, who took it, and then with one quick glance over his shoulder at Jimmy, turned and walked slowly off up the corridor with the old Earl.

##########

Jimmy made his way downstairs to the familiar servants' rooms. Mrs Hughes stood at the bottom of the stairs, gazing into the distance.

"Hello Mrs Hughes," he said chirpily. She turned and he gasped at how much older she looked—her eyes dimmer, her complexion paler, her hair greyer.

"Oh! Hello Jimmy. What a surprise to see you again. What brings you here?"

"My employer—Lady Anstruther—wanted to visit Lord and Lady Grantham."

"Lady Anstruther? I see." She pursed her lips. "Are you keeping well?"

"I'm not too bad. Mrs Hughes—I'm so sorry to hear about Mr Carson. He was a—a fine man."

"He was indeed. I'm just glad to have Mr Barrow. He's been my rock since Mr Carson…" She sighed.

"Has he?"

"He changed after you left." She stared at him. "You broke his heart, so I hope you aren't going to do it again. I know how a broken heart feels now."

Jimmy felt a lump in his throat and patted her arm. "I'm so sorry."

She put her hand on his. "I mean it."

"Where is Thom—Mr Barrow anyway?"

"He may be in his room. The one Mr Carson used to…you know where it is." She smiled slightly and Jimmy smiled back. "But if not, he could be in the pantry, or polishing the silverware, or even in the wine cellar. Good luck on your hunt."


	3. Chapter 3

Older and Wiser

Part 3

His footsteps slowed as he reached the butler's room. Was he doing the right thing? Shouldn't he just leave it as an exchange of letters between two former colleagues and not meet him in person again? But he was here now. He knocked loudly on the door.

"Come in," called Thomas, so there was no going back now and he stepped through the door.

Thomas looked up from his work at the desk. His eyes were as bright and clear as ever, a contrast to his raven black hair, now with the distinguished touches of grey. He smiled and Jimmy smiled back.

"Thanks for all your letters, I love getting them," blurted Jimmy.

"Come in and shut the door then, you're making the place look untidy."

Jimmy obeyed, but hovered near the desk. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands, so put them in his pockets, then took them out again.

"I'll just finish these rotas. You can sit down, you know."

Jimmy remained standing. "You didn't tell me you were butler now."

"Well…I didn't want to make you feel badly. You sounded unhappy in your job."

"It's…okay there, I suppose."

"At least you've got Lady Anstruther to keep you happy."

"I haven't. I hardly see her, she's married now thank god."

Thomas looked up and stared at him. "So, you're wondering who's going to flatter you now?" He smiled a little. "Give you your daily admiration?"

"No! I—I just—I wanted to see how you were." This wasn't going the way he'd hoped. "I love getting your letters. No one else bothers with me, they certainly don't see any good in me or try to help me. Only you do that." He stood right in front of Thomas's desk.

"Now, you're standing in me light, I can't see what I'm writing."

Jimmy retreated. He'd been mistaken and Thomas had just been writing to him as a friend. "Well. As long as you're alright here."

Thomas looked up again. "I am alright, but—I was better when you were here. I had more fun. I've got friends here now, but—they're not the same as you."

"You're the only one who's ever believed in me, Thomas." He shrugged. "The only one who's ever seen anything good or attractive in me."

"Really? You haven't got a pretty young girl or two in the nearest village?" There was a light in his eyes now.

"Nah. Silly girls." His gaze locked with Thomas's and the butler stood up and smiled. Jimmy held out his right hand and took Thomas's left one. "I didn't forget that time you said you loved me."

Thomas snatched his hand back. "Don't make fun of me." He put both hands behind his back.

"I'm not!"

"Your Lady Anstruther clicks her fingers and you come running. She wanted to come to Downton so you thought you'd click your fingers at me and see if good old Thomas would still be keen on you."

"No! That's not it at all. You've got that wrong."

"Yes, I'm wrong as usual. Now go away. I must get on with me work." He went to sit back down in his chair but Jimmy grabbed his collar and forced him to stay standing.

"I won't! Listen! Lady A knew I was unhappy at her place. She knew why, too. She knew—she knew—that I wanted my friend back. My friend who's the only one to see through that stupid act I put on all the time, pretending not to care and trying to be Mr Big. You're the only one who sees the real me and the only one—probably—who's ever loved me."

They gazed at each other.

"So, you've realised that then. Good for you. What's good about it for me?"

"You're—you're the only one—I haven't found anyone I love as much as I love you."

Jimmy leaned forward and kissed him on the lips, a definite smacker with no room for misunderstanding. They stood in a very awkward position leaning over the desk though, so he walked round the desk and put his arms tightly round Thomas, who felt less sturdy than he looked, perhaps more vulnerable. Whereas Jimmy had put on bulk in the last few years—no longer the slender youth.

They held each other for a long time.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" said Thomas after a while, pinching his own arm.

"No." Jimmy mumbled into his neck. "Lady Anstruther said I was pining for you so she arranged this visit specially." He chuckled. "Pining. Sounds like Victorian lady."

"About time she made up for what she did to you."

They moved to sit down—Thomas in the armchair and Jimmy on the dining chair—and Jimmy took his hand. "Yes. She's even got a valet position vacant, if you—I mean—if you could—stomach a demotion."

"I don't know. I like it here now. But I could do with an under butler here. There's so much to do and so many servants to organise. I didn't know how much work Carson did. He was always so smug about it, I thought the butler job was easy."

"Would they take me on again after last time?"

"Maybe. Lord Grantham…he's pretty much senile now. Poor old bloke. Lady Cora turns a blind eye to most things. I bet I could persuade them."

"Lady A wouldn't be happy to lose me but I'd be bloody happy to leave her house. Miserable gits there."

Thomas laughed. "We're more cheerful here now but it would be even better with you here. The footmen are boring, the only one I have a laugh with is Mrs Patmore."

"Mrs Patmore? God! Scraping the barrel." He laughed too.

"What shall we do then? Shall I ask Her Ladyship if I can have an under butler?"

"Why not. Lady Wotserface can find another footman for her household."

"Lady Wotserface! Married to Lord Thingummy."

They giggled again, then there was a knock at the door. Jimmy leapt up and leaned against the desk.

"Come in?" called Thomas from the armchair.

Mrs Hughes opened the door and smiled from one to the other. "Oh good, you found each other then."

"Yes," said Jimmy. "We did."


End file.
